Destiny Is Never Left To Chance
by Givethemtriumphnow
Summary: Collection of KH oneshots. #2: the a Final Battle comes to a rather abrupt halt
1. Avalanche

Sora cried out as his injured leg finally gave out from under him as he hobbled through the deep snow, eyes widening in horror when he saw the avalanche rushing towards him relentlessly.

Clawing at the snow as he struggled to right himself so he could make a mad dash for safety, he saw that Donald, Goofy, and the others had made it out of harms way- and as they turned at his cry, they too realized that that meant they were too far away to reach him.

The wave of snow was only seconds from crushing him and sweeping him off the mountaintop; Sora shared one last desperate look with his friends, thought to them, goodbye, just in case, and with the last of his physical strength, gave one final lunge towards safety.

As he had despairingly predicted, he did not make it.

The massive wave of snow crashed into him with a pain more suited to slamming into a brick wall than seemingly soft powder; the world went white, then black as the roar filled his ears and the breath was crushed from his lungs under the weight. All sense of direction was stolen from him as he was flipped, twisted, and pounded on all sides by the deadly force of nature, before he finally managed to somehow grasp enough sense of his body to curl into a protective ball, struggling for enough breath to scream as the weightless sensation increased for what seemed like eternity, before it abruptly vanished, and the crushing weight of hundreds of tons of frozen water piling on top of him, burying him alive the only thing he could register for an instant as his body and mind struggled to grasp what was happening.

The burning in his chest, the sharp agony of his leg, and the biting cold pierced through the confused haze in his brain, bringing panic to the forefront as he gasped for breath, the small pocket of air created by his the arms shielding his face giving him room to breathe, at least for the moment. Sora struggled to move his arms or legs, but the immense weight of the snow and his increasing panic didn't leave him many options.

Breath fogging frantically in front of his eyes, Sora realized that he had no idea what to do. This was his first real experience with snow of any kind. He had lived on the islands his entire life, snow was a dream he never really imagined he would experience, living in the tropical climate. But here he was, on another world, and the snow was trying to kill him.

He was so cold.

Wait, he realized, I know at least one thing about snow!

He could hear faint, distant screams, calling his name, shouting for him desperately to reply. He opened his mouth and tried to call out to his friends, before he attempted his plan; his voice sounded deafening, even muffled as it was, to his ears in the oppressive silence of the snow, but he knew from the unhesitating nor suddenly rushing calls that no one had heard him.

Closing his eyes tightly against the darkness, Sora grasped at his magic, still faint from his fight against all of the heartless earlier, having used much of it when he had gotten separated from the others, not even having enough to heal his leg before they had had to flee. But maybe. Maybe he would have just enough...

"Fire" he whispered, immediately feeling a tingle along his frozen skin as the magic burst into life at his command, making the concrete-hard snow around him crackle and hiss at the sudden heat.

Unfortunately for Sora, fire magic did not burn the user, so he felt none of its warmth, only the increasing cold of the now-liquid water dripping and soaking into his clothes as the small, weak flames slowly ate away at the snow around him. Shivering violently, Sora began to try moving, slowly widening the tiny area he had formed in the snow when he was buried, until he was able to struggle into a mostly upright-position, able to see a bit from the light his magic cast.

Feeling his strained magic flagging, Sora concentrated it on the palms of his hands instead of his entire body, trying to conserve his energy and he began to claw at the white powder around him, watching at the melted snow fell from its place under his fiery hands, only to refreeze in seconds after hitting the cold bottom of the small 'cave' he had made.

Hearing the voices of his friends drawing closer, Sora tried calling out again, and this time, they seemed to finally hear him. He heard the voices begin to shout louder, calling for him to tell them where he was.

Seeing his fogged breath spiraling upwards, he reached both of his weakly-flaming hands and dug into the snow over his head, still shouting for Donald, for Goofy, For Ping, or the captain, for anyone to help him. Ducking as the frigid water seeped from under his burning, numb palms, Sora furiously scratched and scraped at the snow above him, uncaring for the most part that it rained down all around him, making his chilled body even colder, because his friends voices were getting louder, and he knew, once he broke the surface, he would be fine. He would be okay. The others would rescue him. He would just have to hold on long enough to get to them.

It seemed like an eternity had passed, but finally, finally, one of his hands reached out to shove snow away, and after a furious yank, cold wind met his frozen fingers. Crying out in joy at the welcome rush of fresh air, Sora frantically dug faster, pushing his uninjured leg against the pile of snow under him, screaming for the others as his strained magic finally gave out, I'm here, I'm here, help! Help me!

"SORA!" A multitude of voices cried out, and there was a huge rush of noise as his friends all raced towaRds him, then hands were grabbing him, pulling him shivering out of the frigid grave he had been trapped in, a blur of faces passing overhead as Goofy and Donald grabbed him tightly in a hug.

"H-hey, g-guy-ys" Sora gasped out, shivering harder than he ever had in his life, chest still heaving, breath rasping in a throat sore from screaming, eyes burning in the icy wind that whipped past the mountain top.

"Don't worry, Sora! We're here!" Goofy assured him, nuzzling the side of his face in a sign of affection and comfort Sora had been on the receiving end of quite a few times during their journey, when he had become disheartened, or when the Knight had wanted to reassure himself that Sora was in fact, okay.

A lump seemed to be stuck in his throat, and Sora wondered if he had accidentally swallowed some snow, or at least he did until a sudden sob ripped itself from his throat, surprising him as freezing tears welled in his eyes and overflowed down his face as a hiccuping sob shook his frame.

"It's okay, we've got you! You'll feel better in no time!" Donald quickly said as Sora frantically clutched his two friends in a hug, utter relief and exhaustion coursing through his entire being as he shivered against the burning warmth of their forms, the panic and terror of being trapped in the ice momentarily pushed to the side, for now.

"Here, we need to warm you up, fast" Donald said, extracting one of his gloved hands, before the court magician quickly summoned a blazing ball of fire. The diminutive Mage was about to offer the magical fire to his friend, but a quick grab on his wrist stopped him.

Slightly annoyed at whoever was stopping him from helping his friend, Donald turned and snapped, "What's the big idea!?"

Ping stared back worriedly, unphased by his blatant use of magic.

The soldier shook his head, "you can't help him with that," he explained quickly, seeing the ire in the mages eyes, "right now he's so cold he won't be able to tell if the fire is burning his skin. It could cause more damage to warm him up too fast, even kill him. He needs to warmed slowly. We need to share body heat, it's the most effective way- If you have the magic to do so, you should tend to his leg. I saw the blood when he went under. He might be injured in other ways, and can't tell because the cold has numbed him."

Donald blinked at the imperial warrior, before he nodded. Breathing a sigh, he let the fire in his hand fade away, before he quickly drew as much of his magic to the front as he could, casting a cure spell on his friend who seemed to be slowly slipping in and out of consciousness, worrying his friends with his lack of response.

Green light flared out of his gloved hands with the smell of fresh flowers and the chiming of a soft bell; the glow seeped into the keyblade's chosen one, flaring brightly around his leg and fingers as the magic sought out any injuries it could heal. Donald cast the healing spell two more times to be sure he was fully healed while Goofy held their friend in his arms.

Captain Shang had instructed the other soldiers to begin constructing a shelter against the stable rocky outcropping on the side of the cliff they had had to scale down to get to their injured comrade. The men were busily constructing snow walls to block the wind, clearing away the fresh powder on the ground to lay down layers of furs around around a pile of dry tinder and logs they each carried with them, while Yao, Ling, and Chien-Po quickly set up tents within the protective walls.

Knowing that time was of the essence, the Captain was quick to scoop his youngest charge out of Goofy's arms, leading the others to the largest tent as he gently laid the cold boy on his own personal sleeping mat, ignoring Chi-fu's indignant squawks.

Commanding Chien-Po to quickly fetch blankets and dry clothes, Shang turned to face Ping, Donald, and Goofy. "Ping, I want you to stay with him; help him stay warm; You two, I am going to need your help patrolling the area." When both of them seemed ready to rebel, Shang added softly "You are two of our finest soldiers; the boy is in good hands. He will recover, however, we can not let our guard down while he is vulnerable. We do not know if Shan-Yu has survived, and he could attack at any moment."

The threat of such a vicious man near Sora while he was hurt so badly seemed to swiftly sway the two to his side, and he nodded approvingly as the shorter one quickly started the main fire with a flick of his wrist, glad to have such a powerful shaman on his side, and not against them. It was a terrifying prospect, especially when it seemed Shan-Yu himself had the power to summon so many demons. He idly wondered if the pale shaman weren't much older than he appeared. He knew it took decades of practice to master even the smallest spell- or perhaps he was being aided by his ancestors?

Shang shook off the thought as Chien-Po handed him a shirt so large it could only have been one of the man's own, an equally huge blanket being thrust into his hands before the soldier quickly turned and finished the preparations for the night. Turning, he narrowed his eyes at Ping who was sitting next to the boy, Ping still fully clad in his armor, watching him nervously.

"Well? What are you waiting for, Soldier?" He demanded, tossing the blanket and shirt at the man, "I told you to keep him warm! You're the one who said he needed body heat, is that not true?"

Ping nodded frantically, but still hesitated in undressing himself as he quickly removed the boy's wet jacket and shirt from his unconscious form. "Y-Yes Sir, it's just, I- I am not comfortable undressing in front of you..." The man stammered out nervously, the fearless, ingenious warrior Shang had had his life saved by earlier nowhere to be see in the ashamed eyes of the nearly-cringing man before him.

Shang had long ago noticed that Ping did not remove his armour or clothes when in the presence of any of the other men, always bathing alone, getting nervous and wary when any of the other men suggested he join them. How could he not have noticed? Ping had been different from the start, weakest of the troop, tiring so easily, as if he had never done strenuous work in his life. Shang had almost thought that Ping was the spoiled son of a rich man, never having to lift a finger for himself, until he had remembered that his father, while honored in battle, was nowhere near what one would consider wealthy.

He had privately come to the conclusion that Ping had been crippled at some early point in his life, perhaps even in childhood, something that had made him weak, something that had scarred him, something that made his father so protective of his son that none even knew he existed. But it seemed Fa Zhou's over protectiveness was unfounded; Fa Ping had flourished under the hard training, despite the rough start.

The weak boy he had trained had quickly become a man capable of great feats, and this soldier had saved his life and probably the lives of all of his troops today with his ingenious move with the cannon.

He owed him this, at least.

Nodding his head in respect, Shang told the surprised man, "Then I shall leave you alone to tend to your duties, and will make sure none of the others disturb you. Call out if you need any assistance...and know that if you ever wish to talk...I will not judge you."

As Mulan watched Shang leave them alone in the tent, she blinked in astonishment, wondering what in the world had prompted the Captain to say such a thing. Did he suspect her? Did he know she was a woman? But, if that were true, why would he suggest she tell him?

A shiver from Sora's unconscious form jolted her out of her thoughts, and she jumped, before quickly removing the rest of her young friend's damp clothes, drying him off gently with a corner of the blanket before slipping the huge shirt Chien-Po had given them over his head and maneuvering his arms through the wide sleeves as best she could. She moved to the front of the tent, and peeked outside, holding Sora's wet clothing in her fist as she sought an appropriate place to dry them, while also checking to make sure who was guarding the outside of the tent. She sighed in relief when she saw Goofy had been posted at the entrance of the tent, knowing he would let no one enter to discover her secret. She quickly passed off Sora's belongings to him for him to hang near the fire before retreating against into the depths of the tent.

Making sure once more no one could see in, Mulan set about removing her armor, wincing at the bruises and small cuts she had sustained in the battle against what Sora, Donald, and Goofy had called "heartless". Stripping down to just a simple tunic, she quickly pulled the covers down and slipped in beside the boy, pulling him close to warm him, flinching at the ice cold of his skin.

Feeling his heart beating against her chest, and the small puffs of air against her neck, Mulan reassured herself that Sora would be okay. She had heard her grandmother warn her many times about the danger of someone getting too cold, and was glad she had listened to the advice. At least it was Sora who had been swept away by the avalanche (oh how horrible she felt for thinking that!), and not one of the other soldiers.

Sora at least, knew her secret, and would keep it for her. She just hoped he wouldn't be too alarmed at waking up nearly naked, in such a dishonorable position with Mulan hugging him under the blankets; Mulan herself was not very embarrassed at the situation, though doubtlessly she would later, when confronted with him, and perhaps she herself was still in shock over what had happened. But she was not regretting her words that had prompted the Captain to place her in charge of Sora- it was to save his life, and besides, she viewed him as a friend, nothing more, or perhaps even a little brother.

A little brother who can take single handedly defeats a dozen of dozen demons with that strange sword of his in under a minute, she thought to herself, shivering a bit herself as the cold of Sora's exposed skin seeped into hers, slowly warming him in the exchange.

Idly, she wondered where Mushu and grandmother's lucky Cricket had gotten to. She had ridden Kahn down the treacherous slope all the way to where the snow had finally settled, but she had not seen hide nor hair of her guardian dragon and his insectile companion. She hoped they were okay.

Sighing, Mulan decided to settle in for the long haul, forcibly relaxing her body as she idly drew her fingers through Sora's long hair, feeling clumps of snow and frost working their way free under her gentle combing.

As the minutes slowly passed, Mulan found herself dozing, quietly on the edge of consciousness as the events of the day weighed her body down into the soft pile of furs and blankets. She blinked long and slow, knowing that she needed to stay awake and watch over Sora, but sleep was relentless.

Suddenly, just as she was about to work up the strength to call for Goofy to come in and relieve her of her position, there was a strange, odd warmth tingling at the edge of her senses- the sensation seemed to be centered on the spot where Sora's heart beat against her own in a steady rhythm...

The was a soft, glowing wash of light that seemed to lie just under the boy's skin, dispelling the last of the chill into steam in the air, and the smell of dust after rain filled the tent for an instant as a breeze gently washed over the soldier and the Keyblade Weilders forms, though the fabric of the tent did not stir.

Mulan smiled, and no longer fought her exhaustion as she felt Sora sigh softly, the warmth of his breath no longer sending goosebumps up her spine from the contrast of his cold skin. They were both warm now, and Mulan knew that whatever that light and that Wind had done, Sora was no longer in any danger. He was safe now, and they both could rest.

Mulan closed her eyes, and fell into sleep


	2. Interrupted

Now playing: Interrupted

The six, all that remained, stood or kneeled or slumped on the ground, beaten, bloody, and exhausted from their long and perilous battles against the true Organization XIII.

Sora had been sent on ahead, to face the Master, while they each fought their own shares of dark counterparts; Riku and the youngest Xehanort had dueled once more, Lea battled his childhood friend, and Kairi had fought brilliantly against Xigbar.

All had fought their battles, and against all odds, all of them had won...

All, but one.

The oldest Xehanort stood, triumphant, arms raised in a maniacal glee as he stood, silhouette, against the blue-white of Kingdom Hearts in the sky behind him. Before him, still glowing faintly with black tendrils of darkness, stood Sora. The chosen Champion of Kingdom Hearts himself.

Only... he was no longer himself. Once-sky-blue eyes now shone with a sickly yellow light, malevolent in their shine. Pointed ears poked out of pure white hair that fell in spikes over the smirking face, an expression far too dark, far too cruel to have ever truly belonged to their friend.

Gasps of dismay and cries of denial rang out as the Thirteenth Vessel let out a low, dark chuckle.

The oldest Xehanort, Master Xehanort let out a triumphant shout. "At last! All of the vessels have arrived, and all of the champions of light have lost!"

Suddenly, throughout the battlefield, fallen enemies arose anew, picking themselves out of the dirt and dust they had fallen in. All eleven of them glowed with dark energy as the turned their poisonous golden eyes to their Master.

Xehanort gestured mockingly from his perch toward the champions of light, "It is as I told you before; Destiny is never left to chance. Do you truly think I would have allowed Lea," here, he spat the name with derision, "to interrupt the claiming of the last vessel if I did not know for a fact I would succeed in the future?

Do you truly think I would have wasted so much energy and time, to merely allow you to escape with the boy destined to be the thirteenth Seeker during the Mark of Mastery?"

The King, Riku, Kairi and Lea all looked aghast at this revelation, to know that their daring rescue of Sora had merely been part of the manipulation of the mastermind before them. They were all too caught up in the horror of the moment to notice an odd creaking noise, like rusted metal grating against itself.

"Destiny... is _never_ left to chance," Xehanort repeated, pointing at each Champion in turn. "That is why I guided all of you to your proper places. That is why we are here! The Keyblade Graveyard, the site of the very first Keyblade War! Where light and darkness clashed and Kingdom Hearts was banished from the World!"

The man made a sweeping motion with his hands, guiding every eye to the pearlescent glow of the emerging Kingdom Hearts behind him in the sky, summoned by the brewing conflict, but still obviously incomplete.

"But no more," Xehanort continued gleefully, "For tonight, we shall summon it once more! Sora! My _vessel_! Now it is _your_ turn, to do what your predecessor, Ventus, could _not_! Now is your time to _strike_! Ignite the _second Keyblade War, Forge the X-blade, and together we shall summon the true Kingdom Hea-!"_

 ** _"Will you shut the hell up already you cantankerous old body snatcher?!"_**

Before anyone could quite comprehend what the _hell_ was going on, a six-foot tall, rust and dust-encrusted suit of armor launched itself out of nowhere and slammed its metal fist into the old man's face.

Xehanort crashed to the ground with a cry of surprise, clutching a broken, bloody nose as silence reigned over the stunned and _very_ confused Graveyard


	3. Regret

The world was hazy, damp, and cold, and there was a thundering noise nearby. Riku wasn't used to the cold. It was a rare sensation for someone who had spent their entire life on a tropical island. Slowly, he blinked his eyes opened and saw a rush of blue and white falling. He blinked again, and the scene jumped into focus: a waterfall.

Pushing himself up, he glanced at the grey rock underneath his hands before straightening. Bad idea.

Stumbling, he nearly fell at the sudden bout of lightheadedness that assailed him. Where...where was he? There was nothing like this back home... "Where am I?" He questioned aloud, looking around warily. His eyes widened with sudden panic, and he spun on the spot, looking around frantically, seeing the waterfalls- GOING UP, instead of down, seeing floating rocks, seeing a twilight sky, seeing everything but the two people he most desperately wished to see.

"SORA! KAIRI!" He shouted, but in vain. Pain gripped his heart and he bit his lip as he stared at the ground of another world beneath his feet. He had made it. Made it to another world. But...Sora...Kairi...without them, what was the point?


	4. Down The Path

Now playing: Down The Path

They waited, in deep sleep and other, unending slumbers of a darker nature. They had plotted and they had waited, endlessly tasking themselves with a burden too great for one to bear; and so many bore it in their stead.

Again and again, they cast their heart into darkness, first once to make two, then twice to make four, and so on and so forth, going about their quests as hearts of darkness and empty bodies from which hearts sprang anew. They gave themselves the name of No Heart. Again they would release their hearts, and once more a new dark heart and shell would form, going on their own paths towards the ultimate, inevitable end, to repeat the cycle endlessly.

Some dark hearts were tasked to fill the worlds with darkness, and thus they made it so; some were sent to the unseen realms to seek out the gates to the Hearts, but they wandered for centuries, lost in the abyss, and eventually they gave up on their returning, and set their gaze upon a new path.

They gave themselves a new name, to show their purpose: No Heart X. A confusion of letters as seemingly jumbled as their mission, but the truth lay within if you knew where to look.

They waited and plotted and explored the worlds, sending out new dark hearts and shells to scout out the best candidates; after many centuries had passed and many of their name had walked the lands, theybrought their newest, youngest shell to a world of Wielders, took up the blade again, and when the time was right bade it pass to another; a boy they stole from another master, whom their shell, no longer a shell, trained and when the boy proved too obstinate, split his heart for themselves. They needed the X.

Perhaps their hearts sent into the unseen realms were unable to complete their tasks because the blades they wielded were not true; With the boy's split heart of light and dark... could they only unlock the Heart of the World with the true X-blade?

But the boy was a failure- but, in the end, it mattered not; his shell by then was old and strong enough of heart to pass it on to another, younger form; the vessel fought, but even then it was subdued. The new vessel lost its memories, but it was of little consequence, having dispatched not only one, but three potential guardians of light in one fell swoop.

Time passed as they toiled on, striving, searching, yearning for a sign of the beginning of the end. Ever since word of the first war reached their ears they had dreamed of the moment. They had desperately sought a way to see the end, to see the beginning of a new world, to witness for themselves the one, true Kingdom Hearts and the world that lay beyond. And so they had cast their many hearts into darkness, down the centuries and through the ages, to reach this final, inevitable, conclusion:

"At last! All of the vessels have arrived, and all of the champions of light have lost!"

AN:one of my latest, most far-fetched theories for KHIII is that Xehanort, an anagram of "No Heart", with an added "X", is no coincidence that that is how the Noboldies of the Organization named themselves. And so from that sprang a twisted tale of Heartless ( dark hearts) and Nobodies (shells) being endlessly created and sent onto their own nefarious tasks, much like how Xehanort/Terranortwere able to give both their heartless (Ansem, Seeker of Darkness from KHI) and nobody (Xemnas) sentience and purpose enough to try to summon Kingdom Hearts in their own seperate ways. So pretty much this one original person has endlessly released their heart to form countless Heartless and Nobodies, who would (canonically as of DDD) eventually grow new hearts, which could then be released again and again, spawning even more Nobodies and Heartless...

/written 10pm 10/12/2015


End file.
